


Once More, With Feeling

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Boy meets boy. Boy loses boy. Boys try to get each other back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More, With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> In order for this story to make sense, *Nightshift* and *Sentinel Too* haven't happened. If you like, you can pretend it's set late in the second season or early in the third season. 

## Once More, With Feeling

by Yolanda

Author's disclaimer: Petfly and Paramount own the guys, but here's something they might do if I  
wrote the scripts. 

Credits: I'd like to thank the gang of galz -- Debbie, Catherine, Lauren, Donna and Sue -- who've treated me with zines and vids and jokes for all these months. Also, thanks to Moz and Al for lunch that was a pleasant surprise!). And last, but not least, many multitudes of thanks to Lauren, who made me write it longer, and to the SenCrit listfolk, who had great suggestions and picked apart the story's problems before I inflicted them on you, gentle reader.   


* * *

"I love you, you know." The words were surprisingly difficult to say, but they had now fallen out of Blair's mouth, and couldn't be taken back. 

Jim took the words and weighed them carefully, in the gravity of the moment. His hand reached out to touch Blair's face, to cradle the side of his lover's head. He smiled, and gently broke the mood. "That wasn't just the orgasm talking, was it?" 

Blair grinned in relief. "No way, man." He turned and kissed the inside of the other man's hand. "This is forever." 

Forever lasted about six months. 

* * *

"I've invited him." 

"Oh jeez, Simon. You know how I feel about --" 

He was cut off by Simon's gruff voice. "Stuff it. _I_ want him to be there, and you can just pretend to like it. For me, if nothing else. He did a lot for _all_ of us when he was at the station, and Amy and I want him to be at our wedding." His voice softened. "It was Sandburg who got us together, you know." 

He shot a look at his friend. "No, I didn't." 

"Yeah, we'd gone out a couple of times and I wasn't saying too much to her. Nerves, you know. She thought I wasn't interested, and cancelled our next date." 

Jim muttered, "I've never seen you at a loss for words." 

Simon chuckled. "Well, it _was_ the first time I'd dated anyone since the divorce. Anyway, Sandburg ran into her a few weeks later, and told her how I had become impossible to work with. He told her that everyone at work knew I was head over heels in love with her. " Simon grinned at the memory. "He always exaggerates so much." 

"Well, he's out of my life now." 

"Now look, Jim. I don't know what went on between you two at the end, but I've got to say that you were a lot easier to be with before he left than afterwards." 

He flinched. "That's unfair, Captain." 

Simon was sympathetic but blunt. "The truth hurts, Jim." 

* * *

Simon and Amy's wedding day dawned cloudy and damp, but the skies were reluctantly clearing as Blair got off the bus and walked to the ceremony. 

The church was in an older part of town, one which was currently being yuppified by developers putting up new condominium complexes. In the process, they tore down the crumbling heritage homes that had been abandoned to time and the elements, unloved and unprotected. He thought it was a shame; the older buildings were much more carefully built than the new ones, and it wouldn't have been difficult to renovate them. Even though the new buildings were pretty, they tended to leak in the incessant rain and it only took a couple of years for mildew to show up on the exterior walls. 

He'd been nervous earlier, as he'd put on his new grey suit. Well, it was new to him, though he'd seen it in the secondhand store window for a few months. He didn't have anything else which was appropriate for a wedding. In fact, all his other clothes were starting to show their age, fraying at the edges and developing holes which needed to be patched. 

It had been almost a year since he'd seen anyone from the station. It had been all right at first, as he'd managed to finagle his way onto a university exchange to Lijiang. He'd kept himself busy enough, learning the local Naxi dialect, that he'd almost managed to forget about Jim. 

When he came back to Cascade, he'd managed to convince himself that he was better off without the Sentinel in his life. But as more of the year had passed by, he'd realized how much Jim meant to him, how much he missed being a part of Jim's life. And then he'd rationalized that it was for the best, that the last thing his ex-partner needed was a geeky dependent ruining his life. He'd made that clear in their last fight. 

* * *

"You can't even make one lousy meeting --" 

"Hey man, back off! I was only late --" 

"You were two hours late, Chief. We were on our way _out_ when you finally decided to show up." Jim's voice had become quiet and coldly rational, and Blair knew he shouldn't say anything else. 

He knew, but he did it anyway, trying to defend himself. "But I had a meeting with my advisor, and he was busy with another --" 

*Boom.* It was like watching a volcano explode in slow motion. "Then you've got to choose, Sandburg. Do you want to stay on at the station, or do you want to quit being an observer? Simon's still angry about the way you screwed up the last case, and he's ready to pull your pass. And I don't need to be waiting for you to ditch me every day." 

*Sandburg.* The choice of surname was another warning -- he hadn't heard it since they'd become lovers -- but he continued to press his case. "Jim, I'm almost done. It's just another month --" 

"You just don't get it, do you? It's been 'just another month' for a year now. You've used up all your get-out-of-jail-free cards at the station and with me. Now decide --" 

*Enough was enough.* "Fine, that's it. I'll just get out now and leave you alone, like you always wanted. It's been a slice, *Ellison.* See you around." He grabbed his bag and left. There would be time to come back and get his things later, when his _roommate_ wasn't at home. 

* * *

The large church was beautiful, an elegant jewel of contemplation and peace surrounded by the construction and chaos of the neighbourhood. All around Blair, the families and friends of the bride and groom hugged each other cheerfully, and exclaimed in joyful reunions. As he approached the entrance, the ushers emerged and began to urge people into the church. 

When he walked inside, he saw Jim, standing by Simon at the front of the church. The first sight of his former lover wasn't as painful as he had expected. As the best man, Jim was dressed formally, in a tuxedo and tails. Blair had seen him dressed up before, but he knew that Jim preferred more casual clothing. *It's too bad. He's stunning in that outfit, and judging from the crowd, every woman here agrees with me.* 

Simon was doing something to loosen his shirt collar, and Jim was laughing at his efforts. After Simon was finished with his nervous fiddling, Jim grinned and reached over to straighten his tie and pat him on the chest. 

*He's happy.* The thought was unexpected, but not unwelcome. *At least one of us is.* He found that he was glad for his friend. 

He saw Jim start to turn his head to the entrance, and ducked behind a large group of people and into a pew near the back of the church. He wasn't ready to face Sentinel senses quite yet, even if it was across an entire church full of people. *Just hope he can't pick out my heartbeat from all these people around me. Tonight's going to be soon enough to be making awkward conversation.* 

He spent the next few minutes looking around the church, picking out the people he knew. There was, as expected, a large group of police officers near the front. Joel was there, telling a joke to Rafe and Brown. Megan was in the group too, looking as cool and efficient as ever. He thought she'd have returned to Australia by now, but perhaps she'd been asked to stay on a little longer. 

And then he saw Simon's son at the back of the church. Daryl was arranging a pair of candles on a pillow, with two rings tucked carefully between them. *The unity candles, and the symbols of their union. And it's meaningful that they're carried forward by someone who will be an essential part of their commitment to each other.* 

The unmistakable strains of the wedding march began a few seconds later, and he was shaken out of his reminiscences and speculations. His eyes wandered back to the front of the church, to Jim, who was grinning at Simon. *He looks like he used to. Before* 

* * *

Their last month had been the worst part of their time together. After a blissful period of new love had come reality in the form of petty disagreements and unmet expectations. Blair needed to finish his dissertation in order to qualify for an upcoming tenured position. It was rare for the university to consider hiring one of its own graduates, and he was flattered to have been invited to apply. 

One night, Blair came to bed especially late. All he'd wanted to do all day was to come home to Jim's enveloping arms, but that had been impossible. He'd delivered a lecture in the morning, then ate lunch at his desk while meeting with students to discuss their final projects. He'd finally gotten to his own research after dinner, and became engrossed in writing up an alternative explanation of one of Burton's more cryptic passages. After one particularly irrepressible yawn, he'd looked at the clock and discovered that it was long after midnight. 

*Shit. Jim's going to kill me. I promised to be home by 10 so we could talk.* He threw some books into his duffel bag and went jogging to his car. 

It was too late, of course. Jim was in bed, and it looked like he'd been asleep for a while. He stripped and crawled under the sheets, warm from contact with the body beside him. Jim stirred and roused a little with the movement, but didn't wake. Blair stretched over to kiss the sleeping man, then settled an arm around him as he fell asleep. 

He tried to rouse himself the next morning to talk to Jim, but was unsuccessful, trapped in a soporific condition born of too many late nights and too little down-time. He woke enough to feel Jim leave a kiss on his temple, then fell back down into an unsettled  
unconsciousness. 

By the time he approached consciousness again, it was almost noon. He'd missed a few morning appointments, none serious, but they'd nagged at his conscience nonetheless, and only added to the bad beginning to another bad day. 

He headed out to the university again -- it was starting to feel more like home than the loft -- to get to the weekly departmental meeting, more student meetings, and too little time spent on his dissertation. And too little time spent with Jim. 

So it went, another day in the stream of days and weeks which time so quickly stole away from him. Not enough time for Jim seemed to be the prevalent theme of his year. Gradually, the reverse began to become true. Jim began to have less time for *him.* 

That fall, a massive crime wave broke over the city. Violence spilled out from the gutters, leaving murky eddies in the lives of ordinary people. New designer drugs rippled through the lifestyles of the rich, taking not a few lives on their way through. And, all unknowing, Jim and Blair found their lives turned over by the tide of events. 

A student lost her boyfriend to one of the new caffeine-based hallucinogens. When she appeared in Blair's office, it was only to ask for a grade deferral. She wasn't the first to come asking, and he was initially reluctant to agree, asking for her reason. She began to cry then, and Blair handed over some tissues. They were too flimsy to last long, and he only waited a few moments to take her into his arms, to give her a shoulder on which to weep. 

It took a while to slow her sobs to a manageable level, and a bit longer before she felt able to leave his office. Blair then decided to give up on the rest of the day. He'd not seen Jim in days, and, after the afternoon's interview, felt the need to make sure that his partner was still alive, that his heart still beat, that his skin still warmed to the touch. 

Not surprisingly, Jim wasn't home. He made dinner for himself while debating whether or not to call Jim on his cell phone. He decided that it would seem a bit too overanxious, and settled down to read in his bedroom. Sleep stole up and ambushed him. Tired from overwork, heartsick from consoling his student, he was in need of retreat and recovery. 

He felt much better the next morning, a sunny spring-like day which made a thousand promises of happy smiles and warm caresses. When he emerged from his bedroom, Jim was eating breakfast in the kitchen. The Sentinel looked up with a scowl, and, a few minutes later, rushed out the door with half a piece of toast in his mouth. That day was the beginning of the end. 

Jim's withdrawal and their eventual breakup started after that day. When he finally made it to bed, admittedly very late at times, Jim would turn from him, presenting only a view of his broad back. He'd try to wrap himself around the bigger man, and be shrugged off when Jim moved. The days of falling asleep in Jim's enveloping arms seemed long gone, and, faced with this literal cold shoulder night after night, Blair eventually retreated back to his own bed. He was too tired to try to work things out with his partner, and besides, he never saw the guy when they were both awake. 

All he could think was that Jim didn't want him any more. All he knew was that they were both sleeping again, though unfortunately, it wasn't in the same bed. 

And Jim seemed to prefer it that way. 

* * *

The minister was in the midst of the ages-old ritual. "In sickness and in health," he intoned. 

Blair couldn't keep his eyes off Jim. The memories, good and bad, were flooding through his mind, and with them the regrets that he'd been running from for the past year. 

He'd done sickness with Jim -- from colds and viruses to poisonings and mind-altering drugs. He'd done health with him, too. Fishing, shooting hoops, camping, just hanging out together. It shouldn't have ended like it did. They had been good together, as friends and as lovers. 

He should have tried to reach Jim earlier, and not allowed his pride to dictate his actions. *Maybe I was a little wrong, back then. Maybe it's not too late for second chances.* 

Was this what growing up was all about? The realization of one's mistakes, the never-ending accounting of growing regrets and second thoughts? He should have tried to break through Jim's walls again. He smiled wryly to himself. *And again and again. The man is nothing if not stubborn.* 

But there was the wedding reception and dinner later tonight, and maybe then a chance to talk. If he could get through Jim's walls. If only. 

* * *

He thought he'd heard Blair's heartbeat in the crowd of people coming into the church. He'd looked up quickly, and saw only some more of Simon's family members. *Do I miss him so much that I'm jumping at shadows?* 

The last year with Blair had been heaven and hell. He'd fallen in love with his roommate before he'd realized what was happening, before he'd been able to stop himself. Looking back, he wasn't sure if he'd ever had any choice in the matter. 

The scholar had broken into his life with a lie, then moved in with an explosion. Lies and drugs had opened their friendship, and the sex had finished it. Blair had been conceived in the age of sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll. Well, in the end, all they hadn't been able to agree on was the rock 'n' roll. 

But the music hadn't mattered, hadn't made any difference to the sounds they had made themselves, coming together. The fact that his emotions were returned was a blessing and a joy. He could never remember their first time without a warm smile emerging on his face. 

* * *

It was Saturday night, and neither of them had any plans to be anywhere but with each other. Blair had muttered something about cooking something special, and Jim was looking forward to spending some quiet time at home. No cop stuff tonight, no bad guys shooting up the loft. Just him and Blair, some quiet conversation, and the pleasure of a good friend's company. 

He set the plates out on the table and Blair ladled out steaming portions of pasta with sun dried tomatoes and Pacific salmon. His roommate had even splurged on a bottle of wine, a local winery's ros which was a perfect match to the meal. After dinner, they took their glasses out to the balcony. 

"Thanks for the spread tonight, Chief," said Jim. "Was there some special occasion or something?" 

Blair looked up at him. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, there was." He looked away, and quietly spoke. "This is the anniversary of the day we came back with Simon, the day I decided not to go to Borneo." 

Jim was stunned motionless for only for a moment, and then he moved forward and wrapped one arm around Blair's shoulders. "Thanks, Chief." 

He found his fingers tangled in Blair's hair, as entwined as the other man had become in his life. And he found that he didn't want to loosen either of the bonds. He felt Blair relax against his side, warm and close. It felt natural to kiss the temple by his cheek. And then to do it again. 

He lifted his glass in a silent toast, and Blair raised its mate to meet it. The two men drained their wine silently, respectfully. Jim reached out to take the other wineglass, accidentally touching Blair's hand. It was warm, and as Blair surrendered the glass, his fingers gently stroked Jim's. 

Keeping one arm around Blair's shoulders, he moved them both inside the loft, and deposited the glasses on a side table. The gentle mood had broken a little with the move, and it was awkward again. Words fell out of his mouth. "Do you want this?" 

"I don't know, man. I just want to touch you, want you to hold me." 

His arms tightened around his friend's body, and he bent his head down into Blair's curls. "I can always do that for you. Won't ever let you go." 

He could feel Blair's hands wandering up his back, touching, rubbing. 

He asked again, "What do you want?" He pulled back a little, and found his fingers on Blair's face, moving tenderly, daringly. He leaned forward and kissed his partner, just a light brush of lips. 

He opened his mouth to ask a third time but Blair's mouth came up to stifle his words, to erase them -- and all conscious thought -- from his mind. He was aware of his friend's scent, of arousal and need, of desire and fear. He could feel the textures, soft silk of hair contrasting with scratchy linen of shirt, skin rising with goose bumps as it was exposed to the cool air. 

And then the trepidation was gone, replaced by joy and delight as they fell laughing onto Blair's bed. As they touched each other, Jim found that Blair was ticklish in a few areas. After that, Blair made it his mission to discover Jim's sensitive spots. Even though they were accustomed to touching each other, and familiar with each other's bodies, this was so much more intimate than they'd ever before dared. 

At one point, Blair began to snicker helplessly. 

Jim pretended to be offended, and pinned his partner to the bed, holding his arms out over his head. "Tell me," he growled. 

Blair laughed. "You don't want to know. It'll spoil the mood." 

"You've already done that. Spill it, buddy, or I'll get the handcuffs out." 

"Oh no, not the cuffs!" Blair pretended to be afraid. "Are you going to play big bad policeman with me?" 

"Hey, if you don't watch yourself, I'll do a full body cavity search." 

He grinned. "Isn't that where we're heading?" He shifted a little under Jim. "Okay, hold off on the rubber gloves. Really, it's no big deal." 

"Spill it, Chief." 

"I was thinking, 'What will Simon say?'" 

Jim laughed. "He'll be happy for me. He's already asked me if we were sleeping together." And he silenced Blair, changing the subject in the best and most enjoyable way they'd ever found. 

That night, he fell asleep with Blair in his arms, held tight against the cool night air. It was a new feeling for him, this need to be close to someone, even asleep. 

* * *

Jim watched Simon's face as the minister began the wedding ritual. Statistics said that a person's second marriage always lasted longer than the first one. Of course, most people in that statistic had married early, far too young to be able to adjust to the many changes in each other's lives. The older a person was when they got married, the more established they were in their careers and the better their chances of finding someone who could fit into their lives. 

Like Blair had fit. He hadn't realized how large a hole his guide's departure had left in his life, hadn't acknowledged the gap until Simon's words had jolted him into awareness and unaccustomed reflection. 

He was brought back to the ceremony as the minister began the ceremonial questioning. "Do you, Simon, swear to be truthful and faithful to Amy, til death do you part?" 

"I will," was Simon's answer, in a gruff tone that, to Jim, betrayed the deep emotions he was feeling. 

He hoped that this marriage would work out for his captain. While they were now close again, he and Simon had briefly grown apart after Sandburg had left. 

He'd retreated to lick his wounds and to build his walls a little thicker and higher. Simon had been busy dating Amy, and had spent all his free time with her. He'd also been annoyed with Jim for driving Blair away; the station's arrest record had actually dipped measurably without Sandburg's advice. 

For all his strange ways, the graduate student had been useful in making unexpected connections between seemingly unrelated clues. 

But for all the times that Blair was brilliant at work, there were many other instances where he had been careless in his personal life. 

* * *

Jim knew that his lover was a wanderer. In fact, he considered it a minor miracle that Blair had stayed in Cascade for the last few years. At times, he thought that Blair was growing up and beginning to make adult commitments. That was why he'd been so touched by the dinner to commemorate the anniversary of the decision not to go to Borneo. That was why, against all his better judgement, he'd made love to Blair, and invited him into his bed. That was why he'd begun to let Blair behind his walls, where no other lover, not even his ex-wife Carolyn, had gone. 

When he came home that night, he hadn't expected to find Blair asleep in his old bedroom, with a woman's scent all over his body, permeating his clothes, penetrating the air. 

Jim tossed in his bed all through that dark night. Feelings of betrayal had come first, and then anger, both at Blair and at himself. Sleep had come at last, but it was restless and disturbed, and it was a relief to abandon the bed and try to leave the loft before Blair awoke. 

He was almost successful. Blair came out of his room only a few minutes before Jim was finished with his quick breakfast. He couldn't deal with a confrontation that morning; he hadn't had enough time to steel himself against Blair's penetrating warmth. 

But as he fled from the loft, he tried to convince himself that it was for the best. He should have known better than to trust anyone, even Blair, with his heart. 

* * *

The wedding party spent about an hour taking photographs in a nearby park, and by the time they got to the hall where the reception and dinner would be held, many of the guests had already arrived. 

When he got out of the limousine, Jim discovered that he could still detect Blair anywhere. He heard Blair's voice, then a peal of laughter. As he entered the main hall, he spotted the noisy group of Cascade police officers. Megan was talking, but Brown and Rafe were interrupting her, baiting her. Joel was laughing, and had one arm wrapped around Blair's shoulders. 

He focused in on his friend's well-remembered features. Blair's hair had been cut very short, and he was wearing a baggy grey suit. Neither was flattering. 

But Blair's face hadn't changed, and his smile was still infectious. Jim managed to look elsewhere, but his thoughts drifted uncontrollably back to their last month together. 

* * *

He ran away from home that morning. It was a relief to get to work and lose himself in a sea of facts and cases. 

There was a new drug sweeping through Cascade, and the death reports were piling up on his desk. He found the university connection after he'd gone through the first thirty files: a dozen students had been killed by the drug. High on its caffeine confidence, they'd overdosed trying to complete their midterm exams and papers. 

He wasn't looking forward to seeing Blair again; last night's misery, wandering through a quagmire of tangled emotions, was still raw and fresh in his mind. But it had to be done. 

He hit the first speed dial button on his phone. Blair answered after only one ring, almost as if he'd been waiting for someone to call. 

"Hi, it's me," Jim said. "Got any plans for lunch?" 

"Nope, I'm free." 

He could hear Blair begin a new sentence, and deliberately cut him off. "Good. I'll be by to pick you up in half an hour." He hung up the phone quickly, unwilling to hold a long conversation. Better to do it in person, where he could pick up all of his Guide's nonverbal cues and scents. 

Lunch was brief but fruitful. Jim got the name of Blair's student, the one with the dead boyfriend, and the names of a couple of other students who might know some useful information. He was thankful to discover the truth behind the previous night, but it was too late to stop the worms of doubt that gnawed at his heart, his soul. 

His walls were going up again, and he couldn't do anything about it. The worst part was the pain and bewilderment he could see in Blair's eyes as the distance between them grew. 

Blair made dinner a week later. He later claimed it was nothing special, but there was a nice bottle of wine on the table, and he had obviously gone to some effort to assemble all the ingredients. Jim didn't get home until very late, and found the food on the counter. The candles on the table were unlit, and Blair wasn't home. 

Jim put the food away into plastic containers and tried to call Blair, to apologize for missing the carefully prepared meal. But as the phone rang in his ear, he could hear the cellphone ringing in Blair's old bedroom. He didn't leave a message. 

He didn't hear Blair come home that night, but the next morning, Jim found him asleep in his old room. He debated for a few minutes whether or not to wake the sleeping man, but in the end decided to let him get his rest. 

Things had changed. A few weeks earlier, he'd have crawled in beside Blair, taken him in his arms, and held him as he blearily came to consciousness. A few weeks earlier, he'd been in love. 

* * *

As he walked toward the group of police officers, Jim could hear his colleagues talking to Blair. 

Rafe was telling a joke, but Megan beat him to the punchline, answering, "One's a flaming nazi gasbag, and the other is a dirigible. You told me that one last week!" 

Blair laughed, then seemed to put something together. "Hey, so are you two an item now?" 

Rafe answered for both of them. "It's just your imagination, kid. We're just friends." 

Megan added, with a wide grin, "Yeah, Sandy, just like you and Jim were just friends." 

Blair refused to take the bait. "So you two are just friends, huh? Well, watch out. People are talking about you." 

Rafe grinned at Megan. "Whaddya say, babe, shall we give them something to talk about?" 

Joel laughed at the banter, then noticed his approach. "Jim, c'mere! Look who we found sneaking around the church!" 

He greeted his coworkers with a nod, and met Blair's eyes. He could hear his ex-lover's pulse start to race, could sense the heat that accompanied the flush on Blair's cheeks. 

He said, "Hey Chief, are they teasing you again?" He wasn't prepared enough for the bright smile which came from Blair's face. 

"Would you believe I've missed them? I'll bet you never thought I had a masochistic streak." 

Jim answered cautiously. "I never suspected that of you, no." The sound of Blair's voice, of his heartbeat, was a balm on his wounded soul. 

* * *

It had taken him some time to discover how much Blair had meant to him. Anger had seen him through the first few months, and then a sense of loss had stolen in. He tried to contact Blair then, but the departmental secretary told him that Blair was out of the country, helping a professor with a field study. 

He realized then that Blair had done so much for him, had given up so much to be with him. His treacherous mind brought up more and more examples of Blair's sacrifices. The major one was the trip to Borneo, but there had been other opportunities at the university which Blair had declined because he'd been working with Jim. 

So now Blair had his life back, and could work on his own professional career. Jim hoped that he'd finished his dissertation, hoped that he'd managed to find happiness in his personal life. Blair deserved that much in return for all he'd done to save Jim's sanity, his life. He hadn't deserved the treatment that Jim had inflicted on him. In fact, it was probably in Blair's best interest to have the Sentinel out of his life. 

And then Simon and Amy had brought them back together again. In the months before the wedding, Jim hadn't been sure if he was looking forward to or dreading the event. A part of him hoped to see Blair again; another part of him feared that Blair would bring a companion to the wedding. A shred of desire, so quickly suppressed it was almost stillborn, was a wish for a reconciliation. 

* * *

Blair looked at him again with heartbreakingly open eyes, and Jim couldn't contain his own grin any longer. Simon and Amy's happiness had been contagious all day. Love was indeed in the air, and maybe there was still hope for him. 

He could feel the wall around his heart cracking and breaking. Later, he would remember thinking of the sound of a glacier in retreat. 

As he took a step forward to close the gap between them, a waiter came by with a tray full of champagne flutes. He took two glasses, one for himself and one for Blair, and lifted his glass in a toast to his friend. Despite the neglect, despite the time apart, the precious feeling they had once shared was still there. 

He could see the shared realization in Blair's face. There was a lot of work to do before the repair work could be completed, but the foundations were strong and the structure was worth the labour. 

* * *

Jim still wanted him. Blair could feel it in the other man's touch as their fingers brushed over the champagne flute. Jim's hand trembled almost imperceptibly, but Blair could feel it, could sense the other man's nervousness and awe. 

They didn't have time for more than a quick smile and a silent toast before Simon came by. "Hey, Jim," he said, "we need you for a few more photos." He then noticed Blair. "Oh, Sandburg, you made it. Listen, you can have him back after dinner." As they left, Blair thought he saw Simon wink at him. 

Joel and the others commandeered one of the banquet tables, and Blair was swept along. 

Megan commented, "You're certainly a good influence on Ellison, Sandy. I think that was the first time I've seen him smile in months." 

"Yeah, the last time was when they caught the guys who were manufacturing that caffeine drug," Rafe added. "I think he nearly killed one of them in the interrogation room. Internal Affairs tried to start that investigation, remember?" 

"He's been actin' strangely, too," said Joel. "We'll get to a crime scene, and he'll just stand there and stare off into space or somethin'. Sometimes it's short, but I've seen him stand like that for more'n half an hour." 

Blair grew concerned. "Is he okay after one of those incidents? Does he come out of it by himself?" 

Joel answered, "I didn't know what to do the first time, but Simon was there, and he knew what to do. He put a rag under Jim's nose, something with a funny smell to it. Herbs or something. Anyway, Jim came right out of it, and started pointing out clues." 

Megan rummaged through her purse. "Oh, and Simon gave me a rag too, just in case it happened when he wasn't around. I think I've still got it in here somewhere." She found it, and gave it to Blair. 

Blair recognized the fabric, and the faint scent that accompanied it. *It's from my old shirt. And that's the smell of my shampoo. Oh, Jim.* 

He decided to bluff a little. "Oh yeah, this is an herbal compound that I picked up for him in Chinatown. It's supposed to focus your thoughts." 

"Well, it sure works for Jim. You should have seen him the other day " 

Blair let the conversation go on without him. He was bewildered by this discovery. Jim did need him. So much that he'd had to let Simon and Megan help him in this way, had to have a trace of Blair's presence around just to get him out of his perilous zone-outs. 

He turned his head and looked at his ex-lover, seated at the head table. Almost as if he'd sensed the attention, Jim turned and met Blair's eyes. There was pain buried in the Sentinel's eyes, but Blair imagined that he could see an ember of hope, as well. 

Dinner went by quickly enough. The company at his table was entertaining, and the speeches and toasts were mercifully short and cheerful. And all through dinner, Blair could feel Jim's eyes on him, watching him as if, unobserved, he might disappear like Schrodinger's cat. 

The dancing started shortly afterward, and Blair left the main hall and wandered out to take a bench on one of the balconies. He'd learned a lot that evening about how Jim had spent the last year, and needed some time to think about his new knowledge. 

The curtain parted a few minutes later, and he was not surprised to see Jim come out. Blair moved over to give him some room on the bench. 

"We didn't get to talk earlier," Jim said at last, breaking the heavy silence. 

"I noticed." 

"Is the haircut new?" 

"Nope. Got it when I was in China, a few months ago. I couldn't keep it clean after the earthquake took out most of the village, so I cut it off." 

"Earthquake?" Jim shook his head. "You have _got_ to be kidding me." 

"Nope, it really happened, man. I even had a hut come down around me \-- but I got out in time. Then we spent a few weeks helping our hosts try to rebuild their lives. Some of them lost everything they owned." 

Jim shook his head. "And here I thought you'd be safer _without_ me." Tentatively, he reached out a hand to Blair's shoulder. "You, uh, okay with this?" 

Blair heard the real question beneath the words. "Yeah, I want this. Want you. But . . ." 

Jim's hand pulled back abruptly, but Blair had anticipated the movement. He caught it in his hands and held it tightly, refusing to let Jim retreat again. "It's not what you think I'm saying." 

Blair dared to glance at the other man's face then. Jim was looking away from him, at the parking lot, at the park in the distance, at the horizon, anywhere but at him. 

"Hey," he said softly. His friend's head turned slowly his way. "I love you. I've always loved you." He bent his head down and kissed the hand that he still held. "But you hurt me last year. And I'm afraid. I'm scared that you'll do it again." 

He saw Jim's eyes glitter in the dim light. It was hell to say the words, to see the hurt in the other man's eyes, but he had to go on. "I know it's hard for you to trust anyone, but you've got to let someone in, sometime. And dammit, I want that person to be me." 

He had to close his eyes as he was captured in the bigger man's arms. Jim's hands were caught in his hair, and Blair could smell the cologne in his jacket, and underneath that, the never-forgotten scent of Jim's body. 

He could feel Jim struggling for words to bridge the gap between them, labouring to overcome his normal barriers. He put his arms around Jim, and ran his hands down the other man's muscular back, silently trying to communicate his understanding. 

When he finally spoke, Jim's voice was hoarse with emotion. "I won't hurt you ever again. I promise." 

Blair knew the effort it had taken to say the words. It wasn't the promise he'd wanted, but it would do, for now. They were together, and they again had time enough to say everything that was necessary. He leaned a little more into the other man's arms and said, "It's good to be home." 

* * *

**EPILOGUE**  
A few months later, Blair emerged from the elevator to smell garlic and tomato sauce in the hallway. He hoped that the smell was from their kitchen; he'd skipped lunch for a meeting, and now felt halfway to starvation. He opened the door to find Jim wearing his colourful apron in the kitchen. He was pouring a dash of wine into the sauce. 

Blair put his books down by the door. "Hey man, what's for dinner?" 

"Fusilli with spicy chorizo sausage. And the guy at the store said that this merlot would go perfectly with the meal." He filled a glass and passed it to Blair. "Here you go. Drink up." 

Blair was pleasantly surprised by the treat. He noticed the candles, flickering cheerfully on the dining table. "What's the occasion?" 

"Well, it just so happens that the hospital called today." 

"What hospital?" Blair was momentarily panicked. "What do you mean?" 

"Calm down, Chief. It was just a follow-up call." Jim turned the stove down. "An intern got eager and decided to follow up on some of their mystery cases. Pulled my file from three years ago, and called me at work." 

Blair was hit with the memory of their second meeting in his office at the university. "Oh, so this is the anniversary of the day you first hit me." He grinned. "That's so charming, Jim." 

"Hey, it's also the anniversary of the day you first saved my life. I figured that was pretty important. To me, anyway, even if you don't care." 

"Hey, your skin's pretty important to me. Well, that, and the body that's in the skin." Blair always enjoyed flirting with Jim. 

"I thought you loved me for my mind," answered Jim, dryly. 

"Nope, I'm the smart one in this relationship." He drained his glass and put it down on the counter. He took one step forward to close the distance between them, and put his arms around the bigger man. "You can be the brawn, if you like." 

Jim closed his arms around Blair's shoulders. "As long as I get to be the handsome one." 

"It's a deal." Blair tilted his head up. "Shall we seal it with a kiss?" 

"Done." Jim leaned down to follow through on his word. 

With the kiss, Blair felt the mood change slightly. Jim was gently cradling his head, running his fingers through hair that was now being allowed to grow again. 

Jim pulled away slightly, and said, "You know I love you, don't you?" 

Blair nodded solemnly. 

"Well, I trust you, too. With all that I am." 

Blair heard the words, and all the meanings layered underneath. He knew just how hard it had been for Jim to say those words, knew that, to Jim, love came easier than trust. He was touched and captured in the light web of those words, that voice. 

"Oh man." He pulled Jim tighter into his arms. "I love you too. With all my heart, with all of me." 

"Shall we try for forever?" 

He smiled and tried to turn it into a joke. "How about for eternity? Or for as long as we both shall live?" 

Jim looked into his eyes and repeated the sacred words. "For as long as we both shall live. Works for me." 

They sealed their vow with another kiss. 

*Fin d'histoire* 


End file.
